


How to Be Kind

by AChairWithAPandaOnIt



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, i don't really know where this is going cause im stupid and don't always make a fic plan, i will add character tags as they appear, ken is permanently angry and doesn't want to be friends thank you very much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AChairWithAPandaOnIt/pseuds/AChairWithAPandaOnIt
Summary: Takaishi opens his mouth, stupidly cheerful as he says, “It looks like Ichijouji scraped his hands. We’ll have to patch him up as an apology, right, Daisuke?”Ken grits his teeth, withholding the urge to scream. Don’t shout. Don’t shout.“Don’t tell me what to do,” Motomiya huffs. He grimaces immediately afterwards. “Ah, but maybe that’s a good idea.”“There’s no need-” Ken starts.“Great!” Yagami says. “My house is nearby!”And with that, Ken’s already horrible day becomes worse.After snapping at his parents and storming out on them, Ken finds himself meeting the chosen children in the real world. Somehow, their pitiful attempts to treat him kindly are so much worse than their constant endeavours to end his rule over the digital world.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken & Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 21
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

This is the last place that Ken wants to be. Sitting at the dining table with his father, his mother humming in the kitchen as she dishes up dinner,  _ Osamu’s photograph _ staring accusingly at him from it’s usual place on the side table.

They have a candle going next to it and the flame flickers, casting an off putting glow over Osamu’s face. That’s okay, Ken thinks - Osamu was always off putting anyway. A part of him wars at the thought.

_ There’s nothing off putting about Osamu. He was Ken’s oldest brother. He was perfect. _

And now Ken is perfect and osamu is dead and maybe that’s perfect too.

_ When Ken had wished so hard that Osamu would disappear, he’d thought maybe that would fix things. But nothing is fixed and everything is broken and maybe Ken never really truly wanted Osamu to die.  _

_ He still died. _

His father had told him that they were going to be visiting Osamu’s grave after dinner.

The day’s been  _ hard _ , in a way that Ken can’t truly understand. Conflicted feelings bouncing off of each other in a whirlwind. He’d come so close to snapping at a reporter on his way home, annoyance peaking with her unnecessary questions.

Usually on days like this he’d escape to the digital world before having dinner.

He can’t do that today though. Today he has to sit around and play at being Osamu’s replacement.

In Ken’s lap, his hands, so carefully hidden beneath the table, ball into fists.

A cough from his father grabs Ken’s attention. “So, Ken,” the man says awkwardly. “What have you been up to lately?”

“Have you not been watching the news?” Ken asks. Afterall, everything he does is broadcasted to the whole of Japan. He’s Ichijouji Ken - a child genius - and the media knows that he’s guaranteed to be front page news.

“Ah, well,” his father laughs. He scratches at the back of his neck half-heartedly. “I’ve been busy, you know.”

Ken’s eyes narrow. What a pathetic excuse. Well, he shouldn’t have expected anything else from a worthless insect like his father.

Instead of continuing their dull conversation, Ken decides to keep silent. He stares across the room at a painting hanging on the wall. It’s a boring seascape, but anything is better than drab conversations with his parents. 

His father coughs again and settles back into his seat, uncomfortable in his silence.

A few minutes later, his mother breaks that silence, bundling in with dinner. She sets a plate down on every placemat except for Osamu’s, which has been empty for two years now.

“Are you excited to see Osamu later, Ken-chan?” his mother asks, taking her seat across from his father. She watches him expectantly as she picks up her chopsticks, waiting for an answer.

“Of course,” Ken says. It’s a lie.

He’s downright revolted by the idea of seeing Osamu’s grave. It’s because he hates Osamu, he tells himself.

“It must be nice to do something so simple for once,” Ken’s dad comments. They’re really trying hard to make small talk, as if it could ever bridge the gap that’s between them.

If they’d wanted to be Ken’s parents then maybe they should have tried before Osamu died. Now it just comes off as insincere. He knows they’re only playing around like this because they see him as a younger Osamu - a replacement.

Ken isn’t a replacement though. He’s much more than Osamu ever was.

Ken picks at his food, and his parents pick at their food too. They make a show of trying to be enthusiastic despite it, but Ken isn’t stupid. He knows they’re uncomfortable. He  _ wants  _ them to be uncomfortable.

If they’re going to force him through this then they deserve to at least be uncomfortable.

Dinner passes slowly, every second tense and quiet and loud all at the same time. Afterwards, they all bundle up into coats. Ken pulls his hood up and over his head as they make their way outside, mindful of the possibility of being noticed when his nerves are so frayed.

“Are your ears cold?” his mother asks softly when she notices.

_ No, you maggot, _ Ken wants to scream.

“I don’t want to be interrupted by reporters,” he says instead. He stumbles forwards at a hard clap on his back.

“Oh, our Ken,” his father says heartedly. “He’s got so many fans.”

Ken glares from under his hood.  _ How dare he touch him. _

The whole walk to the graveyard, he seethes inwardly. Osamu’s grave is pristine, having been washed earlier during the day by his parents. He remembers them asking if he’d like to take the day off of school to help them with it, but the prospect hadn’t sounded appealing.

They come to a stop in front of the grave. His mother reaches into the bag she brought with her, pulling out two carefully wrapped bouquets and a bundle of incense. She places the latter into Ken’s hands, cupping his fingers around it.

Ken stares down at the incense blankly as she goes about putting the flowers in their vases.

“Are you going to put the incense in its stand, Ken?” his father asks.

Ken doesn’t really understand what he’s feeling. Whatever it is, it hurts.

He kneels down and places the incense in its stand, and then his mother kneels down next to him and lights it. She grabs onto Ken’s arm and pulls him up with her afterwards. Ken feels so lost that he can’t even summon a bad thought at her.

Both his mother and father put their hands together and pray. Ken finds himself imitating them a second later.

He knows what he’s meant to do, what everyone does when they visit graves. He’s meant to pray to Osamu and say his thanks to the older boy.

_ What thanks? _ Ken thinks harshly. The strange hurt feeling that he’d been feeling is increasing tenfold and it’s so confusing that Ken finds himself angry.

He has nothing to thank Osamu for. Osamu took everything. No one cared about Ken - not when Osamu was there.

But then...hadn’t Osamu cared about Ken?

No. Ken shakes his head.  _ He hadn’t. _

“Ken-chan?”

Ken’s teeth grind together at the annoying nickname.

His mother jostles his arm. Again, “Ken-chan? Is something wrong?”

Ken recoils from her, his hands tearing from where he’d pressed them together and coming up defensively in front of himself.

“Don’t call me that!” he shouts.

Behind him, his dad inhales sharply. “Ken…” he says. And then there are hands on his shoulders. It’s almost comforting, but it’s been two years since Osamu died and all Ken’s felt since then is anger and hate.

“No!” he shouts, ripping himself from his father’s grasp.

Both of his parents look shocked, as if they never could have seen this coming. As if Ken's ever been anything but far from them.

He should really calm down. He should force himself into politeness and make some kind of excuse for his outburst. But everything in Ken is roiling with anger.

"Ken-chan, what's wrong?" his mother asks.

He hates that worried look on her face, the stupid honorific she uses on his name. She acts like she cares.

Maybe she really  _ does  _ care, but she's so below him that it doesn't matter. 

People are so needlessly stupid. They can barely remember what they ate for breakfast. And then there's Ken, who's brain works faster than it should, faster than what should really be plausible.

Ken grinds his teeth. His hands ball into fists. He strides past his parents before he can ruin his facade further by shouting insults at them.

"Ken-chan!"

"Let him go, dear. He just needs a bit of space. He was hit hard by what happened."

There's a lump in Ken's throat. He whirls around, caught up in fury.

"You think this is because of  _ Osamu?! _ " he shouts in a hoarse voice. Why's it hoarse? Why does it sound like that? He isn't upset. He  _ isn't! _

His parents say nothing.

"Of course," Ken laughs. "Because  _ everything _ is  _ always  _ about  _ Osamu _ . He's so special! How can anything  _ not  _ be about him?"

He's vaguely aware of how he's acting. The mocking, derisive tone that he uses against the chosen children making itself clear in him.

It's okay to be angry in the digital world. It's okay to let out all his frustrations and burn everything to the ground. The digital world isn't real - there are no consequences to his actions.

But  _ here?  _ Letting his anger out here could ruin him.

His mother reaches for him. "Ken-" she starts. But before she can finish, he's already stormed from the graveyard.

He breathes out as he walks. Angry. Impossibly angry.

His neck throbs strangely.

Ken continues to walk. He’s angry and he’s not really thinking straight, so somehow he finds himself getting on a train. By the time he gets off of it, the sky is darkening.

Ken scowls up at the sky, tugging his hood over his head when a child pulls on her mother’s hand and shrieks, “Mummy! It’s the boy on the news!”

Insects! So eager to look up to anyone greater than them.

It was funny at first, but now it’s just pathetic. Ken can’t go anywhere without being noticed.

He should probably go home. His parents are going to cause a fuss if he stays out for too long. Well, they’ll cause a fuss anyway, but the longer he stays away the bigger the fuss will be.

If he just decided to live in the digital world then he wouldn’t have to deal with their pitiful feelings.

That’s a point. Ken  _ could _ just find a computer and sequester himself in the digital world permanently. It would definitely make conquering the world and defeating the chosen children easier.

But then, what about after? What will he do once he’s beaten the game? There wouldn’t be a point in sticking around then, and by the time he’s completed all of his goals, enough time will have passed in the real world for consequences.

Fussing and questions and curiosities.

Ken huffs, sinking down onto a bench, hands shoved deep inside his pockets. Idly, he notices some kids his age playing soccer nearby.

Ken rolls his eyes.

Other children are so frivolous and stupid.

“Taichi-senpai! Pass! Pass!”

Ken’s head shoots up at the familiar voice, just in time to watch as Motomiya Daisuke - that  _ urchin _ \- catches the soccer ball that’s been making its way across the park. It’s a quick move, feet dancing around with experience to catch the ball and then send it on it’s way.

Ken finds himself unwittingly impressed.

Who would have thought that such a pathetic worm could be skilled in anything?

“Hah! Nice one, Daisuke!” Yagami Taichi cheers. He’s one of the older chosen children. Ken’s seen him a few times, traipsing around with the younger kids, trying to ruin all of Ken’s carefully laid plans.

Ken’s nose wrinkles in disgust as he watches them continue their game. They rain praise over each other constantly, as if it’s something that should be freely given.

Maybe Yagami is manipulating Motomiya? It’s something Ken could do. Just a few carefully placed words and the naive boy would be right under his thumb. Well, he would be if Ken wasn’t the Digimon Kaiser.

But the more Ken watches, the more he comes to realise that Yagami is just as pathetic as Motomiya. There are no ulterior motives. They just  _ like _ each other.

There are other children in the park with them. There’s an older girl with short ginger hair who Ken hasn’t seen before. Takaishi Takeru and his older brother, Ishida Yamato.

Ishida is sitting on the sidelines, guarding their bags while the other two play with Motomiya and Yagami. There are two digimon plushies sat next to him. Ken recognises them as Motomiya’s V-mon and Takaishi’s Patamon. 

Ken’s eyes play a trick on him and for a second he thinks he sees the V-mon twitch.

It’s strange, anyway, because Ken doesn’t think he’s ever seen any digimon toys before. Maybe they’re homemade? The chosen children  _ are  _ very stupid - he wouldn’t put it past them to get so attached.

Ken feels sick just watching them all. He gets up from the bench and begins walking when-

Something smacks into his back, sending him tumbling to the ground with a disgraceful yelp. Ken skins his hands on the gravel and watches as the soccer ball rolls slowly away.

“Whoops! Sorry!”

Ken whips his head around, fury bubbling through him. It’s Motomiya - because  _ of course _ it’s Motomiya. Who else could it possibly be?

“Watch where you’re kicking that thing!” Ken snaps. 

He could have said something worse. He could have called Motomiya a maggot, or a worm, or something equally disgusting. But Ken didn’t, because he has enough wits to know that using words like that would be a dead giveaway to his identity as the Digimon Kaiser.

Motomiya’s mouth forms into a surprised ‘O’. Ken squints at him, half-expecting accusations and promises of defeat.

Instead, he gets, “You’re Ichijouji Ken!”

Ken almost rolls his eyes.  _ Almost _ . 

“I hit Ichijouji Ken with a soccer ball,” Motomiya wails, sounding distraught. “I hit my idol with a soccer ball.”

_ Idol? _

Yagami claps a hand on Motomiya’s shoulder. “Yeah, you kind of did.” he says.

“Well, it was just an accident,” the ginger-haired girl says, smiling sympathetically. She steps forward and offers a hand to Ken. “Are you alright, Ichijouji-kun?”

Ken eyes the hand distastefully. Instead of accepting it, he helps himself up, brushing dirt from his trousers and accidentally leaving tiny blotches of blood behind. He cringes at the stinging of his palms.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

A classic Ichijouji Ken smile - distant and polite. It gives the illusion of respect while also allowing Ken to keep space between himself and the people he meets.

No matter how much he hates these children, he can’t let them see what he’s really like.

The real world has  _ consequences _ , afterall.

“I’m alright. There’s nothing to worry about,” Ken says, keeping his deceptive smile in place.

Motomiya lets out a small sigh. “I’m really sorry,” he says. “I’m really really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” 

Ken notices Takaishi siddling closer. The other boy’s eyes catch on Ken’s slightly balled fists and the tiny, miserable blood stain on his jeans.

Takaishi opens his mouth, stupidly cheerful as he says, “It looks like Ichijouji scraped his hands. We’ll have to patch him up as an apology, right, Daisuke?”

Ken grits his teeth, withholding the urge to scream.  _ Don’t shout. Don’t shout. _

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Motomiya huffs. He grimaces immediately afterwards. “Ah, but maybe that’s a good idea.”

“There’s no need-” Ken starts.

“Great!” Yagami says. “My house is nearby!”

And with that, Ken’s already horrible day becomes worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Yagami’s house is much like Ken’s - several rooms in an apartment complex. A kitchen, a bathroom, a couple of bedrooms. Well, it’s more like three bedrooms. One for Yagami’s parents, one for Yagami, and one for Yagami’s sister, Hikari (who Ken personally thinks is even worse than Yagami, because at least Yagami isn’t  _ always _ in the digital world).

There are only two bedrooms at Ken’s house. He used to share with Osamu. Then Osamu died and Ken finally got his own space.

Ken’s feels that horrible painful feeling again.

He hates it. He hates thinking about Osamu. Everything’s always so much less complicated when Osamu isn’t involved.

“Over here,” Yagami says, and he pushes at Ken’s back as he guides him through the house. Ken wants to snarl at him. He isn’t  _ allowed _ to touch him.

“Ah, Onii-chan,” Yagami Hikari says, looking up from the book she’s reading as they enter the living area. She also seems to have a digimon toy. Her Tailmon is curled up on her lap, looking almost real. “You’re back early.” her eyes pass over Ken, pushed unwittingly to the front of the group. She blinks. “Isn’t that Ichijouji Ken?”

Takaishi deposits his Patamon toy next to Hikari and says, “Daisuke-kun hit him with a soccer ball.”

Everything that comes out of Takaishi’s mouth is so cheerful. Ken thinks he’s found someone to hate more than Motomiya.

“Hey!” Motomiya whines. “Don’t make me look bad in front of Hikari-chan.” he turns to Hikari. “Hikari-chan, it was an accident.”

Hikari giggles. “I knew that,” she says.

Motomiya laughs back, rubbing at the back of his head. His face is strangely pink. “Ah, right,” he says.

Ken narrows his eyes. A crush? He could use-

Yagami pushes at him again and Ken fights back the urge to hit him. “Why don’t you sit down, Ichijouji? I’m gonna go get some plasters,” With that, he’s gone, and Ken has to sit down on the couch for fear of looking stupid in his lingering.

_ Plasters _ , Ken thinks, his eye twitching.  _ Great. _

The V-mon toy is quickly set down next to Patamon. Motomiya is almost uncharacteristic in the gentleness he displays in the action.

The room barely has time to divulge into awkward silence before Motomiya is standing before Ken, hand outstretched and a bashful grin on his face.

“It’s great to meet you, Ichijouji,” Motomiya says. His cheeks have taken on the same pink hue they had when he was talking to Hikari. “I never really thought I would get to, cause you’re so good at soccer and you’re famous and everything. But it’s really great to meet you. I’m Motomiya Daisuke.”

Ken stares.

Motomiya purses his lips at the lack of reaction, eyes wandering awkwardly. Ken had noticed before that the boy rarely seemed to be able to stay in one place for long.

“My hands are still bloody,” Ken tells Motomiya, bringing his hands up to show him the palms, scraped and stinging. “I can’t shake your hand.”

Motomiya droops. His hand falls. “Oh, right,” he says. He seems embarrassed by his blunder.

Ken observes him with narrowed eyes, taking in the awkward cringing and comparing it to the excitement Motomiya had shown beforehand.

He’s naive. He’s easy to manipulate.

Ken cocks his head to the side, smiling. “I saw you playing earlier,” he says. “I was really impressed by the way you took the ball.”

Ah. There.

Motomiya lights up at the praise as if it’s something he’s deprived of.

“Really?” he beams. “I’m not as good as you but-”

“No one’s as good as me.” Ken realises how conceited he sounds too late. It’s true, but it’s not something that people generally say.

Ishida seems to take mild offence. He lets out an annoyed breath. “Of course, famous people always let it get to their heads.”

Ken’s eye twitches.

“Yamato,” the ginger-haired girl mutters. Ken still has no idea who she is except that she’s probably a chosen child, seeing as they all seem to band together so closely. He doesn’t like not knowing.

“I don’t think it’s that,” Motomiya says. Ken frowns up at him. “Ichijouji’s never been beaten on the soccer pitch before, even when he’s been put against professional players. Even just scoring a goal against him would be difficult.”

“Ah, I see,” Takaishi hums. “It’s natural that Ichijouji would think he’s the best if no one’s ever beaten him.”

Motomiya scratches at the back of his head, smiling. “Exactly. It might come off a bit weird, but it’s the truth.” Motomiya grins suddenly. “So, what about it? Want to play soccer with us?”

Ken  _ does  _ like the idea of defeating Motomiya in the real world as well as the digital world but-

“I’m sorry,” Ken says. “I’m busy.”

-that would just give the chosen children a better chance at discovering his true identity.

“Huh?” Motomiya pouts. “All the time?”

Ken nods.

“But not  _ all  _ the time, right?” Ken turns to Takaishi. Does he  _ ever stop smiling?  _ It’s unnerving. “You’re here, aren’t you? And you don’t seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere.”

Before Ken can answer, Yagami is back. Ken expects to be handed a plaster and then be pushed out of the house with as much force as he was pushed into it with, but instead, Yagami sets a small medical kit on the coffee table and grabs a hold of Ken’s hands.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Ken very nearly shrieks, ripping his hands from Yagami’s hold. He presses back against the sofa as if it can protect him from the touchy chosen children.

“Helping you,” Yagami says, eyeing Ken weirdly. He makes a grabbing motion. “Come on, give me your hands. I have a little sister - I know how to do this.”

Ken has to physically force himself not to spit something about older brothers back.

There’s a hand on his arm. Ken grimaces at Hikari, who is smiling at him encouragingly.

“It’s okay,” she says. “Onii-chan’s not as rough as he seems.”

Ken is  _ not  _ scared of that miserable worm. He thrusts his hands out and allows Yagami to hold them this time. The older boy gets to work quickly, cleaning them with an antiseptic wipe. He’s careful about it, making sure to get all of the grit and dirt out. And then, afterwards, he puts the plasters down gently, smoothing them out so that they stick properly.

Ken can’t remember the last time anyone did this for him. He hasn’t played with anyone since Osamu died, and even before then, Ken doesn’t remember them playing much. Osamu had always been busy with his studies. 

When Osamu wasn’t busy, they would...Ken can’t remember what they would do. It feels distant. 

_ The last time something like this happened… _

Ken’s breath hitches.

“You okay, Ichijouji?”

Ken remembers Osamu’s body lying on the ground, the car that hit him parked several feet away. It wasn’t really like this at all. He remembers that much later in the day, his mother had held him close and sobbed. Ken had hurt then too.

There’s a pulsing in his neck. Ken swallows, forcing the upset, hurt feeling away.

“I’m fine,” he says smoothly.

And he is. It’s good that Osamu’s gone. It doesn’t hurt at all.

“Okay,” Yagami grins. He takes his hands away and stands up. “All done.”

Ken stands up too. He bows. “Thank you,” he says. “I should probably get going now.”

After this, he doesn’t need to see the chosen children in the real world ever again. It was interesting seeing them from a different perspective, but Ken knows that being around them for too long is risky.

“Don’t you live in Tamachi, though?” Motomiya says wonderingly as Yagami leads him back over to the door. “That’s two hours away.”

“Huh? How do you know that, Daisuke-kun?” Takaishi says teasingly. When Ken looks over, he’s  _ still  _ got that perpetual smile on his face.

“Shut up,” Motomiya grumbles, flushing. “It’s not that weird. He’s just on the news a lot, and everyone knows that he goes to Tamachi Elementary. He plays on the soccer team.”

Hikari giggles.

Yagami frowns. “It’s probably not a good idea to let Ichijouji go off on his own then. It’s getting pretty late.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ken insists.

Just who do these children think they are? Telling  _ him _ what he can and can’t do.

“Maybe you should call your parents,” Hikari says. “You can use our phone.”

Ken resists the urge to glare. “I don’t need to call my parents.”

“You’re a kid,” Ishida interrupts, staring Ken down with narrowed eyes. “We can’t just let you take a two hour train ride alone this late at night.”

_ They’re kids too! _

Ken smiles tightly at Ishida. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you don’t look too much older than I am. You can’t be older than fifteen. I can take care of myself.”

“Ah! I know,” Takaishi’s cheerful voice sets every one of Ken’s nerves alight. He turns around sharply, full on glaring now. He can’t find it within himself to care about keeping his polite facade up. “Ichijouji-kun can stay over at one of our houses. That way he’s not going out on the train alone.”

Ken’s fingers slowly curl inward as he tries to suppress his rage.

Motomiya grins. “Want to stay at my place, then?”

“I would literally rather die,” Ken spits.

Motomiya’s face falls. His eyes become shiny and his jaw stutters a little as he looks away. Ken stares at him incredulously.

Why isn’t he saying anything? Why does he look so bothered by the fact that Ken obviously doesn’t like him? And why does he look so accepting of it? Like he’s used to rejection.

“Uh- that’s...kind of a mean thing to say,” Yagami says. His voice is light but tense at the same time. “Maybe you should apologise?”

Takaishi is no longer smiling. He’s glaring like he’s caught Ken out in something - which Ken supposes he kind of has. Hikari looks angry too, eyes teary and mouth pressed into a firm line.

The ginger-haired girl is frowning and next to her, Ishida opens his mouth, looking as though he’s about to say something biting.

“Oh well,” Ken stares. He blinks. Motomiya doesn’t look hurt anymore. He’s scratching at the back of his head, smiling. “It doesn’t really matter.”

_ What. The. Hell. _

That’s not normal.  _ That is not normal. _

Ken continues to stare.

Motomiya tilts his head. “You okay, Ichijouji?”

Ken’s face scrunches up. He glares. “What is  _ wrong _ with you?” he hisses.

“Huh?” Motomiya just looks confused.

“Why aren’t you upset?” Ken says demandingly. “That’s a thing people do, isn’t it? They get upset. Why aren’t you? What’s wrong with you? You were upset a second ago.”

“Hmmm,” Moromiya hums. “Well, I guess it’d just be sad to be upset, so I decided not to be.”

“You can turn it off?” Ken asks. He finds himself interested. “What. Why does no one else do that? “

Motomiya just shrugs.

“It’s just like Daisuke-kun to bounce back like that,” Takaishi comments. And that smile is back in place.

Oh? So Motomiya is an outlier? Other people can’t turn off their emotions? That’s confusing. Why can Motomiya do it if no one else can?

Ishida huffs. “So are we going to get rid of the kid or what?”

The ginger-haired girl has nothing to say about his comment this time. Ken supposes it has something to do with his slip up.

“Maybe he should apologise first,” Yagami suggests.

Ken looks at him. He feels the familiar rage at being prodded to do as other people want. Ken rolls his eyes. He sighs.

Dipping into a slight bow, Ken says, “I apologise for what I said, Motomiya.”

“It’s okay,” Motomiya says, grinning.

The tenseness surrounding the other children suggests that it’s not okay. Even if Takaishi is back to smiling, there’s something dark behind the smile. It’s obvious that they’re all aware of the falseness of Ken’s apology.

Ken doesn’t feel bad about what he said. Why should he? He’s above the chosen children - he’s above  _ everyone _ . He’s simply better than them all.

“Right,” Yagami grimaces. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll take Ichijouji home.”

It seems that these idiots can’t be dissuaded.

“But we’re already at your house,” the ginger-haired girl says. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for either Yamato or myself to take Ichijouji-kun home? I can do it.”

Ishida frowns. “Didn’t you promise your mum that you wouldn’t be out too late, Sora? I’ll do it.” The way that eyes Ken up suggests he’s not too happy with the idea. That’s alright, because Ken finally has a name for the girl.

Sora.

Probably another chosen child.

“Yamato…” Sora says, and she glances between Yamato and Ken worriedly.

“How about I take Ichijouji-kun home?” Takaishi cuts in. Ken feels his face fall unwittingly into disgust.

“Takeru,” Ishida sighs. “You’re the same age as Ichijouji.”

“We can go together, onii-chan,” Takaishi beams.

What is he planning? Ken knows he’s planning something. Takaishi’s a lot more observant than Ken had originally thought.

In the end, Ishida is adamant that Takaishi doesn’t come with them. He’s also adamant that there is a ‘them’, because Ken is eleven and apparently that means the chosen children are worried about his safety.

He supposes he wouldn’t trust other eleven-year-olds to take public transport by themselves this late at night as well.

The thing is that Ken  _ isn’t _ other eleven-year-olds.

* * *

Takeru waits a few seconds after the front door closes behind Ichijouji and his brother before letting his smile drop.

“Ichijouji-kun is strange,” he says.

“Yeah,” Daisuke laughs. There’s something awkward about it. “He’s not very nice.”

Hikari frowns. “It’s not just that…” she says.

“Hikari?” Taichi asks, blinking.

“His eyes look dead,” Hikari says. She brings a balled up hand to her chest. “There’s no light in them.”

Takeru nods. “He felt weird,” he says.

“Kind of familiar,” Taichi says.

“Hmmm,” Sora hums. “I guess Ichijouji-kun would feel familiar, since he’s famous. There was definitely something off about him, as well.”

There’s a confused look on Daisuke’s face. “I guess he did feel a bit strange, and he felt really familiar. But I don’t think it’s because he’s famous. It felt different somehow.”

“There was  _ something _ ,” Takeru agrees. “Maybe it was his voice?”

“Yeah!” Daisuke says. He lights up. “Definitely!” he slumps suddenly. “But I guess it’s cause he’s always on TV.”

“Maybe,” Taichi says.

Takeru can’t help but think that Ichijouji being on TV isn’t the cause, though. It was more than just his voice. It was the way he talked, and the way he seemed to think. He was conniving and he watched them all like he was trying to work them out.

It had seemed like he was trying to manipulate Daisuke earlier. Takeru hadn’t really caught on right away but after seeing what Ichijouji was really like, he can’t help but think that Ichijouji isn’t completely capable of giving out compliments like that.

“I think we should keep an eye on him,” Hikari says suddenly. She looks upset.

She doesn’t say it, but Takeru can tell she’s worried about Ichijouji.

Not about what Ichijouji might do, and not about his horrible personality, but about Ichijouji himself.

_ ‘His eyes look dead. There’s no light in them.’ _

Takeru frowns, biting at his lip. It’s a strange way to put it. Hikari always seems to see things that they can’t even fathom. He trusts her though.

Reaching out a hand, Takeru takes a hold of Hikari’s. The weight of her hand is comforting.

* * *

They hadn’t spoken at all on the train ride over. Ichijouji had sat ramrod straight, glaring ahead, his hood pulled over his head as far as it could go.

It was just as well that they hadn’t spoken. Ichijouji’s personality is rotten and Yamato doesn’t think he has it in himself to pretend not to see the spite behind his smile.

“You can go now,” Ichijouji speaks up for the first time, outside of an apartment complex that Yamato assumes he lives inside. By his attitude, Yamato had kind of expected something fancier.

It’s a normal building, just like the one that Yamato himself lives in.

“Not until I’ve seen you inside,” Yamato says. He doesn’t trust Ichijouji to go home otherwise.

Ichijouji glares. “You don’t need to do that,” he says.

“It seems I’m going to do it anyway,” Yamato tells him harshly.

Ichijouji huffs. He turns away and lifts his hood. This is a safe place, Yamato realises, as he watches Ichijouji pat his hair down. It’s somewhere the media can’t catch him.

He’s used to fangirls catching him on the street because of his own small fame with the band, so he can feel sympathy for Ichijouji. 

It doesn’t mean he likes him.

“Come on then,” Ichijouji orders haughtily, walking on ahead. Something about his casual condescending tone strikes Yamato as familiar.

He narrows his eyes.

Another boy with violet hair comes to mind. The Digimon Kaiser.

It’s a stupid thought, but once it’s come to mind Yamato can’t shake it off. Ichijouji’s walk is similar enough, and his voice seems to be exactly the same. There’s a feeling of offness that Yamato’s felt the few times he’s seen the Kaiser, one that makes him tense and almost scared. He’s not scared of the Kaiser, but something about him has always felt wrong, and Yamato knows that the others feel it too.

He doesn’t want to call a child evil. Somehow that’s what the feeling is.

It doesn’t take long for Ichijouji’s father to answer the door once the boy’s knocked on it.

“Ken!” he exclaims, looking relieved.

“Ken-chan?” a woman’s voice calls from inside, her voice a gasp. A pattering of feet and then someone that Yamato assumes is Ichijouji’s mother launches herself at Ichijouji, drawing him into a tight hug. “Thank goodness,” she sobs. “We were so worried.”

Ichijouji says and does nothing but the woman still draws him closer, a hand shifting to press against the back of his head. Her fingers tangle in his hair.

“Thank you for bringing Ken back,” Ichijouji’s father says, stepping around the two. He looks so grateful. 

Yamato doesn’t think he would be grateful if someone brought Ichijouji to him, but he supposes that these  _ are _ his parents, and it  _ is  _ their responsibility to want him safe.

“It wasn’t a problem,” Yamato says.

But it  _ was _ a problem. Yamato just hopes they won’t be seeing Ichijouji again anytime soon.

He knows that his hope is useless, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is here if anyone wants to talk! : https://achairwithapandaonit.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

The room is dark, illuminated only by the bright screen in front of him. Ken’s fingers dance across the keyboard, filling the otherwise silent room with loud clicking.

“Wormmon,” Ken says suddenly.

Behind him, the small digimon perks up.  _ Pathetic _ .

“Ken-chan?” 

Ken’s fingers pause upon the keyboard. He turns around to look at Wormmon from under the glare of his shaded glasses.

“I met those stupid children last night,” Wormmon tilts their head, evidently confused. “They were weird.”

“Weird how?” Wormmon asks. Their eyes are imploring and open.

Ken doesn’t  _ pout _ , because that isn’t something that Digimon Kaisers do. There’s a word for the way that the chosen children were weird - ‘kind’. Ken doesn’t like that word.

“They just  _ were _ ,” Ken huffs.

“Okay, Ken-chan,” Wormmon says. They seem happy for some reason.

Ken shudders, turning back around. How awful.

After a minute of resumed typing, Ken stops again.

“Wormmon,” he says.

“Ken-chan?”

“You know about... _ feelings _ , right?” The word is repulsive.

“I guess,” Wormmon says. “Do you not?”

Ken balks. He twists around to scowl at Wormmon, one hand gripping the back of his chair. Wormmon shuffles back a little bit, looking scared.

Ken deflates. He lets out an annoyed breath of air. “No,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “That’s for other people. Stupid people.”

Wormmon’s face scrunches in concern. Just like Ken’s mother’s.

Ken scowls. “Motomiya’s weird,” he says.

“Aren’t they all weird?” Wormmon asks.

“Yes, they’re all weird. But Motomiya is especially weird. And Takaishi too. He  _ smiles _ all the time - it’s  _ creepy _ .”

“So Ken-chan finds things creepy too?”

Ken scoffs. “Not scary -  _ creepy _ . I’m not  _ scared _ of  _ Takaishi _ .”

“Alright, Ken-chan!” Wormmon chirps.

So  _ cheerful _ . Ken’s scowl deepens.

“Motomiya doesn’t make any sense,” he says. “He’s an idiot and I thought that was all there was to him, but he doesn’t make sense.”

Wormmon, always so ready to engage in anything to do with Ken, tilts their head and asks, “Why doesn’t he make sense?”

Ken’s nose wrinkles. He turns around for the final time with a muttered, “Why am I even talking to you?”

He doesn’t see it, but he knows the way that Wormmon slumps over in that moment better than he knows anything else.

Ken puts that thought as far from him as he can as he resumes his typing. He doesn’t care, and he has more important things to concentrate on at the moment. The digital world isn’t going to conquer itself.

No matter what, Ken is going to win this game.

* * *

“Huh?!” Miyako screeches. “He’s really that  _ mean _ ?”

After a day of school, they’ve finally relocated to the computer room. And, of course, even though Ichijouji Ken has nothing to do with the digital world, he’s quickly become the center of their conversation.

“I’m not very surprised,” Iori says with an air of disappointment. “No one is perfect - not even Ichijouji-san.”

“Yeah,” Daisuke pouts. He leans his cheek against his arms, crossed over the back of the chair he’s sitting on. “I guess that’s just how idols are. Not Taichi-senpai, though. Taichi-senpai’s really cool.”

Taichi has never said anything like that to Daisuke.

Miyako huffs. “And you guys still want to make friends with him? You should stay away. He just sounds rude.”

“I think there’s more to it than that,” Daisuke grins. And there  _ is  _ more to it. What Ichijouji said had really hurt, but Daiuske had realised quickly that he hadn’t said it because of Daisuke particularly. It hadn’t been that he didn’t like  _ Daisuke _ \- he just hadn’t liked  _ anyone _ . “Hikari-chan thinks so too. Right, Hikari-chan?”

Daisuke turns to Hikari, beaming. He’s rewarded by a small nod of her head and a reserved smile. Daisuke’s so glad that he’s friends with Hikari. 

Chibimon pulls themself out of Miyako’s bag of food to groan. “If Daisuke wants to be friends with that boy then I guess he can do it, but I don’t like him.”

Patamon flies down from their perch on Takeru’s head. “Yeah,” they agree huffily. “He wasn’t nice at all. I don’t get why Takeru was talking about him on the phone all night.”

Daisuke blinks. “You’re interested in being Ichijouji’s friend too?” he asks, looking over at the other boy. He supposes that Takeru  _ had _ seemed kind of invested in keeping Ichijouji around last night.

Takeru hums. “Maybe not in being friends,” he admits cheerily. “But I  _ am _ interested.”

Patamon pouts. “But Takeru,” they whine. “He’s so mean.”

Takeru laughs. “Just because I’m interested it doesn’t mean I like Ichijouji. I just think it would be best to keep an eye on him, like Hikari said yesterday.”

Iori watches them all with a grimace. “This isn’t going to end well,” he says quietly.

Upamon butts itself against Iori’s leg, smiling. “Maybe it’ll be fun dagya!”

“Maybe,” Iori says, though he doesn’t sound convinced.

Miyako huffs. “I’m not going to get my hopes up.”

Daisuke shrugs, slumping even further against the seat back. “I have a feeling he’ll come around,” he says.

“Really? Why?” Takeru asks, blinking.

Daisuke grins. “Well, maybe he’s tired of people being all amazed about who he is,” he suggests. It feels good to see something that Takeru can’t. “Maybe that’s why he got angry. I guess it would be weird for a stranger to be so excited to meet you.”

Miyako tilts her head. “I guess I can see that,” she says. “It must be kind of lonely to be so famous.”

“Yeah,” Daisuke says. “I bet no one’s really tried to be his friend before.”

Before they can continue their conversation, the door to the computer room opens.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Koushirou apologises, shutting the door behind him. Yamato is with him today, which is surprising. Usually, the older chosen child is busy with band practice.

“That’s alright, Izumi-senpai!” Miyako beams. “Are you coming with us, Yamato-senpai?”

Yamato nods. “There’s something I want to check out,” he says, dropping his school bag down on one of the desks.

Daisuke wonders what it is that he wants to check out.

He forgets to wonder at Takeru’s smile. Takeru lets out a small mocking sound and chirps, “Wow, Onii-chan, you look tired.”

Daisuke, who has a sibling, can recognise that tone immediately. He hears it everyday in Jun. That horrible, annoying, teasing tone.

Yamato sends Takeru a withering glare. “And who’s fault is that?” he says.

“You could have hung up anytime.” That’s definitely a smirk on Takeru’s face. Daisuke watches him with a grimace.

Yamato heaves a sigh. “Let’s just say I’m invested.”

Imagine being invested in your sibling. Daisuke could never.

Miyako pulls out her digivice and holds it up to the screen. “Chosen children, let's roll!”

They end up managing to take down a dark tower and free up another black space on the map. Daisuke thinks something seems different about the Digimon Kaiser this time. He shouts just as much as usual, and he mocks them all the same, but something in him seems awkward. He seems almost embarrassed to be near them.

* * *

Ken had thought he’d freed himself from the grips of the chosen children.

He was wrong.

“Hey, Ichijouji!” is the only warning he gets before Motomiya grabs his arm and pulls him from Tamachi middle school’s entrance. Ken barely has time to stumble before Motomiya takes off running, Ken in tow.

Every effort to extract himself from Motomiya’s grip is futile and soon enough Ken finds himself in a nearby park, surrounded by  _ all of the younger chosen children _ .

“Wh-” Ken says, panic rising in his chest. And then he whirls around and grabs at the front of Motomiya’s shirt, hissing. “ _ What  _ do you think you’re  _ doing _ ?”

A ball bounces off of the side of Ken’s head, sending his hair into a disarray. Horrified, he looks over as a smiling Takaishi catches the ball he’d just thrown.

“You’re not busy right now, right?”

“I  _ am _ ,” Ken says, shoulders rising.

“Really?” Takaishi smiles. He throws the ball. Ken catches it close to his chest without thought.

“Wanna play soccer?” Motomiya grins.

Hida Iori, the smallest of the chosen children, watches them all as if his dreams are crashing and burning before his very eyes.

“No!” Ken bristles. He turns back to Takaishi and throws the ball at him. “Stay away from me!”

“Hmmm,” Takaishi hums. “How about no?” He drops the ball and then kicks it at Ken, who - not wanting to get hit by a ball - kicks it back. 

This turns into a lot of back and forth ball kicking. And then Motomiya steals the ball and Ken, so angry at Takaishi, gets even angrier and tries to get it back so that he can kick it at Takaishi.

He succeeds, because he’s better at soccer than anyone else, but by then Hikari has joined in, and she intercepts it before it can collide with Takaishi’s face.

He gets extremely frustrated when Inoue Miyako gathers the ball into her arms.

“That’s against the rules!” he accuses.

Inoue just laughs at him.

Eventually, the chosen children get worn out. Just as Ken is about to score his goal of giving Takaishi a bloody nose, Motomiya dives in and kicks the ball out from under his foot.

Ken retreats to the park bench that Hida has been sitting at throughout the game with both a wounded ankle and wounded pride. Burying his face in his arms, Ken screams.

Hida looks away from him awkwardly.

“I’m sorry about your ankle, Ichijouji,” Motomiya says, sitting down next to him.

Ken looks up and glares. “I will  _ end _ you, Motomiya.”

There it is. There’s that accursed laugh.

Ken twists round on the bench to snarl at Takaishi, who is holding the ball. “Shut up you  _ insect! _ ”

Takaishi stops laughing. The smile falls off of his face completely. He stares at Ken, completely bewildered. And then the smile is back.

“Oh, I get it,” Takaishi says dangerously. “So that’s why Onii-chan was so on edge.”

“What?” Inoue grimaces. “Cause Ichijouji’s horrible? You already knew that.”

Hikari looks between Takaishi and Ken, frowning, her hand at her chin. She doesn’t seem to understand whatever Takaishi has worked out. Ken can’t seem to figure it out either.

“What do you get?” Motomiya asks, face twisting with annoyance.

“Hmmm,” Takaishi says. He smiles. “Who knows…” And then he throws the ball point blank at Ken.

Ken catches it and scowls. “Why did you do that?” he asks. “The game’s over.”

Takaishi continues smiling that dangerous smile of his. “Really? I think it’s only just begun.”

Ken’s face twitches. His heart picks up inside his chest. Takaishi doesn’t know...right?

His fingers loosen around the ball as a sick feeling rises in his throat. The back of his neck  _ aches _ . He’s not scared.

“Are you okay?” Hikari asks softly. When Ken looks up there’s a surprising amount of understanding in her eyes.

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” he snarls.

* * *

“Ichijouji-san’s scared of you,” Iori comments. They’re on the train now, and Iori has his bag clutched close to his chest.

Sitting next to him, watching Miyako and Daisuke argue across the aisle, Takeru lets out a thoughtful hum.

“Really? I didn’t notice,” he laughs.

Iori looks down. “Please don’t lie to me,” he says quietly.

Takeru frowns. “Sorry, Iori-kun.”

Iori nods in thanks. He looks away, outside the window, and then back at Takeru. “You were angry at Ichijouji-san. I don’t know why.”

Iori watches with concern as one of Takeru’s fists tightens in his lap. He’s never thought of Takeru as a scary person before. Iori looks away again.

“Whatever it is that you realised about Ichijouji-san, I hope it’s worth your anger.”

Later in the evening, Iori tracks Takeru’s brother down after his band’s practice session. He says that he’s concerned about Takeru. He says that Takeru seems to be holding a lot of anger inside. He says that he doesn’t think it’s healthy.

Yamato looks surprised. He nods and thanks Iori and says that he’ll talk to Takeru about it.

The following day, when they all meet up in the computer room, Takeru makes eye contact with Iori and smiles. Iori’s lips twitch upwards. He’s glad.

* * *

Mrs. Ichijouji watches her son eat with concern. She doesn’t know how to breach the topic of what happened at Osamu’s grave. She doesn’t even know how to  _ talk _ to him.

There’s a magazine in the bin, with the headline, ‘Child Genius Ichijouji Ken Plays Soccer With Friends’. She’d read through it as soon as she’d seen it and then, she’d put it in the bin. Ken doesn’t need to know.

“Do you like lemon cake, Ken-chan?” Mrs. Ichijouji asks. Ken looks up at her with blank eyes. “I was thinking of making some today,” she continues, smiling despite her discomfort. “As a treat, maybe. You’ve been stressed lately.”

“Make whatever you want,” Ken says. He doesn’t say it like he normally says anything, but then, she doesn’t think that the polite tone he usually uses is really Ken.

She doesn’t know her son.

“I don’t want to make what I want,” Mrs. Ichijouji says kindly. “I want to make what you want. What do you like, Ken-chan?”

She needs to know about him.

He was right - everything really  _ has _ always been about Osamu with them. They’d been so happy when he’d started studying like Osamu, when he’d become a genius like Osamu. It had felt like the older boy had come back to them.

But he hadn’t, and instead Ken had just disappeared. She doesn’t want to lose  _ both _ her sons.

She can’t bear the idea.

Ken looks at her strangely, as if the thought of what he likes has never occurred to him before. It’s with a sad feeling that Mrs. Ichijouji realises he doesn’t even know what he likes.

“We can find out together,” she says.

Ken looks away, his face twisted into something dark. It isn’t Ken - or at least, it isn’t the way that she remembers him - but at least it isn’t a lie.

One step at a time, Mrs. Ichijouji is going to discover her son. And maybe, one step at a time, he can also discover himself.

* * *

The headline, ‘Child Genius Ichijouji Ken Plays Soccer With Friends’ screams at him from where it’s thrust in his face.

Daisuke grabs the magazine out of his sister’s hands and steps back with a scowl.

“Explain!” Jun says, waving her arms about.

“Huh?” Daisuke scoffs. He’s drawing it out. He knows exactly what she’s talking about. “What are you talking about?”

Jun grabs the magazine out of his hands and jabs a finger at the goggle-headed figure in the grainy photograph. “This!  _ This! _ Why didn’t you tell me that you’re friends with  _ Ichijouji Ken _ ? You’re a horrible brother!”

Daisuke glares at her. He crosses his arms. “I didn’t tell you cause you’d act like this,” he snarks. “Ichijouji definitely doesn’t need  _ you _ hounding on him. He gets annoyed really easily as well - he’d get sick of you in a minute.”

“You’re lying,” Jun sticks her tongue out. “I’ve seen Ken-san in interviews. He’s as nice as they come.”

Nice isn't really how Daisuke would describe Ken. The other boy definitely knows how to pretend to be nice, but it doesn't come naturally to him.

Daisuke thinks he’s beginning to understand Ichijouji more now. Ichijouji’s so used to being alone that it seems that he’s forgotten how to truthfully be kind. 

That's okay though. Daisuke's sure that they can teach him to be kind with a bit of prodding.

“He’s  _ my  _ age,” Daisuke argues. “Go crush on boys your own age, Jun.”

A mischievous smile comes about Jun’s face. “Oh, I see,” she chuckles.

Daisuke stares up at her with a scowl. “What?”

“I guess I can back off,” Jun grins. “Afterall, I wouldn’t want to step on your toes.”

“What does that even mean?” Daisuke asks. He never gets his answer, as Jun swans off with the magazine, laughing evilly.

“Good luck with Ken-san!” Jun sing-songs.

Yeah, Daisuke doesn’t get her at all.

* * *

There’s a white van parked across the road from the apartment complex that houses the Ichijoujis. A woman with long silvery hair is sat in the driver’s seat, and a man covered almost completely by his blue outfit sits in the passenger seat.

The woman watches Ichijouji Ken as he exits the building in his school uniform.

“What do you think, Mummymon,” she says idly. “Should we put an end to it?”

The man - Mummymon - seems to mull it over. “I think they’ve helped it along,” he says at last. Ichijouji’s long gone by now, already on another street.

The woman nods. “Yes,” she says. “Maybe they have. Encountering them here has made him angrier.”

“Do you think it’ll happen soon?” Mummymon asks.

The woman scoffs. “It better - we’ve been watching him for two years now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jun: haha daisuke has a crush  
> daisuke, who's crush disappeared the moment he realised ken was a horrible person: wat does that even mean
> 
> yeas i definitely think daisuke had an idolising crush on ken before they met. like,,, remember the episode where they had the soccer match and he was all like,, everyone in japan wants to be like him. the boy had a celebrity crush. anyway this is very gen and even if jun was teasing daisuke about his apparent crush there are no ships in this fic. it's just something that siblings do,, when i was a kid my whole family was like u have a crush on tom awww ur in love. and then i materialised as a lesbian like bitch u thought. like it's not very nice of a thing to do because it makes life awkward but sometimes siblings are little shits,,, 
> 
> also i very much see takeru as an annoying younger sibling. he loves yamato but he is ready to ruin his day 100% of the time.
> 
> fucking,,,, iori. i love iori so much. like im just rambling in the notes now but i love iori. he's such a good kid. he's like,, so good. every scene is made better by him being there. he is just uncomfortably like,, i am looking away i do not see every scene and i love him. im looking forward to giving us more iori pov because that's what we all deserve.
> 
> and i also definitely want to give more of a spotlight to miyako and hikari at some point,, because it's bullshit that my writing is pushing them to the back. come on panda let them have some screen time they really deserve it.
> 
> speaking of screen time,,, i really want to put Jou in this at some point. for some reason i feel like he would see ken,, be like is anyone gonna adopt him,,, and not wait for an answer. the older kids definitely need to be involved even if they're not the focus of the fic.
> 
> also whoops there is some plot. the plot is being there like hello i exist and im going to be silent for like a dozen chapters while u give ken his character development but i am here and i am watching and u should be afraid
> 
> anyway here is my tumblr. please come and talk to me if you'd like <3 <3 <3 :https://achairwithapandaonit.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> i kind of don't know exactly where this is going except for a vague plan that i think i've sort of already diverged from but oh well,, this is very fun to write (:
> 
> here is my tumblr if anyone wants to talk: https://achairwithapandaonit.tumblr.com/


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